Teen of 221C Baker St
by RorschachinBlueJeans
Summary: A reclusive gamer who lives in her own little closed off world, just walked into Sherlock's. To him, she is boring and dull, until he one day finds her talking to her 'friends' and going on an adventure he doesn't understand. And he hates not understanding. Will she come out of her shell and explain, or will she run away from him, like she has everything else in her life?
1. Not So Exciting

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock.

A/N: Okay I know I had already posted this story, but I didn't like where it was going, so I decided to restart. Hope you enjoy.

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><p>John Watson, a short, blonde soldier, was writing his blog when a cab pulled up in front of the building. He watched to see a teenaged girl get out and go to the trunk, pulling a couple suitcases out, heading toward the door. ran out the front door to help the girl get her things inside. John, intrigued, then turned toward his flatmate, who was sitting in his chair with his legs up to his chest, mumbling nonsensical things to himself. "Sherlock. I think someone is moving into the basement flat." The tall, lanky man extracted himself from the chair and walked toward the window to see a girl taking the last of the boxes, that seemed to hold electronics, toward the door.<p>

She was on the short side, most likely due to being malnourished at some point in life. She had short black hair, most likely so it doesn't get in the way. He could tell by the way she walked that she almost never wore anything but trousers or shorts. She had several necklaces that she never took off, sentimental value, dull. Then on her fingers were a ring for each finger, possibly a new trend or obsession of her own. Her boots were brown, water- proof, and made for hiking. Possibly an outdoors woman, boring. Though with the box of electronics, it pointed toward reclusive gamer, also dull. Possibly a writer, lost in her own world, by the way she was muttering to herself, as if she was talking to someone other than herself, possible schizophrenia. She was a teenager, obviously living alone, meaning dead or estranged family. The way the box favored her left arm, she was ambidextrous in all but writing, which she was right handed. Lightly toned muscles in arms and legs showed some sort of training, most likely kickboxing. She was a night owl, judging by the fact that she looked like she been up since late the last day and about to fall asleep. He wasn't able to deduce anymore, because she got everything in the building. "It seems you are correct John. I wonder if she will be entertaining..." He said the last bit before turning from the window and going back to his original position on his chair. He highly doubted that she would be.

Aaron Caldwell was an 18 year old girl who kept to herself. Not that she hadn't tried to make friends, but people seemed to dislike her for some reason. They thought she was a freak, because she liked the dark, had an obsession with the horsemen Death, and hung out in graveyards. She was an orphan whose parents left quite a bit of money, but had no other family, so she lived in a group home until she hit majority and could get into her inheritance. Not that she needed much. She got the basics, T.V., bed, couch, kitchen stuff, laptop. Then she splurged and got the one game she had always wanted to play, but never got a chance... World of Warcraft. She put it all in storage, besides the laptop and game, while she stayed in a hotel, searching for a flat. She finally lucked out with a basement flat in London that Mrs. Hudson was desperate to to rent out.

She knew of the two flatmates in the upstairs flat, and was a little wary of them. Mrs. Hudson had said they were nice boys, but Aaron had read their blogs, and at least Sherlock Holmes seemed arrogant, even if he was indeed brilliant. She sat down on her couch, resting for a few moments, before Mrs. Hudson came in and smiled at her.

"Aaron I want to take you upstairs to meet the boys. What do you say?" She asked. Aaron smiled a little nervously, but nodded her consent. The moment she got on the stairs she could hear someone playing a violin. It was beautiful, and nothing she had ever heard. It was soft and elegant, very unlike her own cornet. They walked slowly and walked through the door without knocking.

"Hello boys!" Mrs. Hudson said pleasantly and the violin stopped. Aaron walked in to see a tall man standing in front of the window holding a violin and another man sitting in a armchair reading a newspaper. Aaron guessed that the short man was John and the tall one with the violin was Sherlock. At first they looked to Mrs. Hudson, then their eyes flicked to her, making her fidget. Especially the piercing gaze of Mr. Holmes. She knew for a fact he was deducing her. So she did the same. Mrs. Hudson's eyes followed theirs and she smiled at Aaron, beckoning her forward.

"Ah! Boys, I wanted you to meet the new tenant of 221C, Aaron Caldwell. Aaron this is John Watson and Sherlock Holmes, the tenants of 221B." She said with gusto that made Aaron smile. Said girl spoke to first.

"It's a pleasure, gentleman."She said, waving slightly. John smiled at her and waved back.

"Same to you, Miss." They both looked at Sherlock, but he didn't say anything, just stared at her. She stared back, a blank and dead look on her face, as if she was tuning the rest of the world out. Defense mechanism, Sherlock mused. When she is in a uncomfortable situation, she shuts herself into her own mind, much like Sherlock did with his mind palace. Did she have something similar? Probably, but she probably doesn't delete information from hers like he does. Sherlock broke out of his trance to see John looking at him with bated breath. Probably expecting him to throw his deductions out at her, but he wouldn't. Especially since she was barely there anyway.

He instead smiled a bit, and bowed slightly. "Welcome to 221 Baker Street, Miss Caldwell." That broke the girl out of her trance and made her narrow her eyes as he straightened. Ah. She had expected his deductions, that being why she closed off. She must have read about them. Or at least him. She stared at him for a moment, before giving a small smile.

"You can just call me Aaron." She said before the smile was gone and soon after so was she as she fled down to the dark basement, most likely for some sleep.

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><p>AN: Okay I like this one a lot better. I hope you guys like it. Please review!


	2. Found You Death!

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock.

A/N: To say I am surprised that I got any reviews, especially so soon after I posted my first chapter, is an understatement. I must say I am ecstatic!

And I most definitely thank you greatly! Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Aaron had been living in 221C Baker St. for a month now, and the boys of 221B Baker St. had barely seen so much as a glimpse of her on the stairs.

Sherlock therefore deduced she was definitely hiding from them. Why that is, he had yet to figure out. Every once in a while they would hear what sounded like a trumpet from the basement flat, though Sherlock knew form its slightly higher tones, that it was in fact a cornet. That being said, the same thing was happening now, and Sherlock was bored, and wanted to figure out the new girl. So, Sherlock being Sherlock, he grabbed his violin, and went down to the lowest flat, where the object of his interest was playing a variation of what he believed to be the Lord of the Rings songs. He pushed open her door, without knocking of course, then proceeded to where she sat playing. He stood next to her, and she tensed but didn't stop playing. He looked at the sheet music, and easily converted the notes in his head and started playing along with her from the 15th measure.

Aaron while this was going on, pretended he wasn't there to stop the shaking as she played. She had never played well with other groups of instruments. Only other cornets, or trumpets. She didn't want to mess up, and make a fool of herself, but ignoring him was getting increasingly difficult when she could feel the heat coming off of him in waves right next to her. Thankfully they were on the last measure, and she didn't have long to wait. As they played out the last note, Sherlock stared down at the girl next to him, waiting for her to acknowledge him. She looked up at him and was about to say something about his skill with a violin, when they both heard a rather girly scream come from the top flat. They both put down their respective instruments and ran up the stairs two( in Aaron's case) and three(in Sherlock's case) at a time.

They both ran through the door to find John trying to climb up his chair in fear and pointing at something on the ground near Sherlock's chair. The two of them looked over to see a Black Eyed Leucistic Ball Python making its way toward Aaron, who smiled and got on the floor to pick it up.

"So that's where you went Death! I've been looking all over for you! Silly snake, running off and scaring people." She cooed at it as it wrapped itself around her shoulders.

Both men stared at her, one in fear and the other in curiosity. Aaron looked at John apologetically.

"I'm sorry . I don't know how he got up here." John still looked faint.

"Why isn't he in a tank?" He asked in a voice that was just above a whisper. Aaron looked scandalized.

"How could I ever put my baby in a tank! That's not even a possibility! Plus he's had his venom removed so he's not dangerous." John looked highly doubtful. Sherlock on the other hand was very curious on the origins of the snakes name.

"Tell me Aaron, why did you name your snake after one of the Horsemen of the Apocalypse?" She gave him a rare grin, something he planned to make happen more often.

"Thanks to a show called Supernatural, I have an obsession with the Horseman Death. And graveyards. They are quite peaceful." This explanation just Sherlock with more questions as she took her snake back down to her flat.


	3. Exciting Afterall

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock or Lord of the Rings. Not a crossover.

A/N: Okay! This chapter 3 and it gets more interesting from here! Sorry about the confusion with the snake, but I really don't feel like changing it. Anyway, thanks to all those who have reviewed, followed, or favorited my story! Please Review!

Sherlock as usual, was bored. He hadn't had a case in 3 weeks, and hadn't seen Aaron in 4. She was again avoiding them. Or more him, because John has talked to her a few times since the snake incident. So she was avoiding him. Why, he had no idea. And at the moment it was just him and her in the building. It would be the perfect chance to bother her.

Sherlock rolled off the couch and started toward the stairs. He walked down slowly toward the basement flat, but stopped half way down. He could swear he heard voices coming from her flat. Or more accurately, her voice taking on different pitches. It was as if she was talking to herself. He moved cautiously down the stairs, making sure not to make a sound. He came to her door to find it open. He listened as she talked to herself. It was like she was pretending she was in the book.

"I think going through Moria is a terrible idea!" She yelled in her own normal voice. She then answered in a slightly masculine voice. "I agree with Aaranon. It is far too dangerous." Her normal voice came in again. "Thank you Legolas." Sherlock saw her through the crack in the door in a outfit that very much reminded him of the elven garb in Lord of the Rings. It was fascinating! Her imagination was absolutely astonishing! He had never met a person who would put themselves in the book in this way! He of course knew of the fan fictions called self inserts, but this was a new concept altogether! He had missed a few lines while lost in his thoughts.

"It sounds more like a riddle then sounding like you need a password Gandalf." She answered in a gruff voice. "Then what do you suggest?" She again answered as herself, or as she had said earlier Aaranon. "It means _mellon_." She then made noises with her mouth, trying to imitate the sound of the stone door of Moria opening. She then gasped in horror before stumbling back against the wall. Sherlock took that moment to push the door open all the way, startling her. Her eyes widened and her mouth gaped in horror as she backed away from him. He put his hands up in the universal sign of surrender.

"I'm not going to hurt you, or judge you for that matter. In fact I find it fascinating how you immerse yourself in the stories and become a character yourself. Even give yourself a name that sounds like it could be from Middle-Earth. Absolutely fascinating." At this point Aaron was looking at him in disbelief.

"You mean you don't think I'm weird or crazy? Most people want nothing to do with me because I talk to myself." She said looking away from him. She reached and picked up her snake Death, wrapping him around her shoulders. She then looked at Sherlock again to see him grinning at her. It was slightly unnerving.

"You are so much more interesting then I thought you were going to be! So much more! God I must ask you questions!" He said that last part, grabbing her hand and dragging her up the stairs.

She just went with the flow as she was drgged up the stairs and shoved into John's chair, Sherlock practically throwing himself into his own chair in excitement. "Now tell me everything!" He demanded, bringing his hands together and putting them under his chin. Aaron wasn't sure what he really wanted.

"Everything about what?" This question caused Sherlock to roll his eyes in annoyance.

"Well first of all, why did you start talking to yourself?" Aaron just shrugged her shoulders before she answered.

"I was lonely I suppose. That's why most people do it, right? Talk to themselves I mean. It's nothing really interesting." Sherlock didn't react, having already expected this, just wanting confirmation.

"You mentioned that you like graveyards. Why is that?" The girl across from him shifted uncomfortably as he stared at her.

"I find them peaceful, and no one bothers you when you are there. People are far too superstitious to do that. And then the energy that comes from being around all those spirits! It's amazing and so freeing!" By this time she had such a bright smile that caused Sherlock to give a genuine smile while she stared up at the ceiling.

"Fascinating! Have you ever had anyone else pretending to be in a story with you?" Aaron shook her head.\

"No. First of all people think I'm weird and crazy. Second, no one else sees everything the way I do. I'm not delusional. I know the difference between fantasy and reality!" Sherlock didn't like that she seemed to close off as she spoke about the people in her past judging her. Hindering her mind. He liked her much more as the vibrant girl he had watched make a small passionate speech about the allure of graveyards. He was going to have to bring that out more. The only question right now, was how?


	4. Not Normal

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock.

A/N: Welcome to the fourth chapter in this awesome story. I thank for all the reviews, favorites, and follows! To the people who did not look at my profile to find out why I was on hiatus, I did not have a reliable internet source and I could not post of my mom's phone. So I have been writing, but I am only able to post now. I hope you guys like this chapter!

Aaron sat in her flat writing more fanfiction scenarios, but having a hard time concentrating. The run in with Sherlock had been unnerving. Plus absolutely terrifying. When he had opened the door after watching her acting out the screenshots in her head like she always did, she thought he was going to be disgusted with her. Curse her. Call her a freak, like everyone else.

But he didn't. In fact he said she was fascinating. She couldn't write anymore, she had to get out for a while, to think. She quickly put on her jacket, grabbed her backpack and ran up the stairs on all fours. She peeked out the door to make sure Sherlock wasn't looking for her. She couldn't handle him right now. She then quickly left the flat and ran to the nearest graveyard. She sighed in relief and sat against a tree near the center, closing her eyes to relax.

"I really don't understand why you come here Miss Caldwell. I would think it was most depressing." Aaron's eyes snapped open in alarm to see a tall man with light brown hair, a fake slightly condescending smile, twirling an umbrella. But what really got her attention were his intense eyes. The same eyes as Sherlock. She knew exactly who he was, courtesy of Mrs. Hudson.

"You must be Mycroft." The older Holmes looked startled for a moment, before his mask was back in place.

"That would be correct. If you know I am, you must know why I'm here, correct?"

"If it's the same reason you approached John, I'm not interested. If not, then I have no idea." Mycroft scowled at her. Aaron just sat there. She wasn't going to do anything to show a reaction to him. If he was anything like his brother, he would go away if he was bored with you.

"Yes well. If that is the case, I will be off. Though one more thing Miss Caldwell." Aaron looked at him when he addressed her."You shouldn't hide so much. Why would you ever want to be normal?" With those words he left, and Aaron was really confused. What the hell was he on about? Then she was scared. What did he know about her? Now she didn't even think the tranquil atmosphere of the graveyard could calm her down. She got up and started back to the flat, hoping Sherlock would be able to enlighten her on his meaning.

Sherlock was sitting in his chair, using John's laptop, again, then looked up when he heard light footsteps on the stairs leading up to his and John's flat. He was surprised that she would venture up here when she had been avoiding them, or more him for so long. Of course it was Aaron, who else could it be, and she sounded nervous for some reason. He watched as she walked through the door, looking all around, even at the ceiling. She was quite obviously paranoid. Ah that's it. He was willing to bet she had finally met Mycroft.

"Aaron, pleasure to see you venture up here. Now what is your reason?" Aaron rolled her eyes and sat in John's chair to address him.

"Quit pretending you don't know." Sherlock smirked.

"Okay so you caught me. Did he offer you money to spy on me?" Aaron gave her a slight smile then it dropped, making Sherlock's eyes narrow. There was something wrong.

"He tried but I refused. I don't need the money, and before you say anything about splitting, neither do you. He said something that kind of confused me. I was hoping you could shed some light on it. He said why would you ever want to be normal. What did he mean by that?" Sherlock's face darkened at that comment as he snarled and launched himself off his seat to start pacing.

"How dare he! Trying to meddle where he isn't wanted! He should keep his nose out of it!" This confused Aaron further, as well as annoyed her. She hated not understanding something, especially when this something had to do with her.

"What are you talking about Sherlock? I don't understand." Sherlock stopped pacing, took a deep breath and lowered himself back into his chair. He steepled his fingers looking at the young woman across from him.

"What I mean is, he's trying to push you out of your comfort zone. You are not normal like he and myself. Big difference we embrace it. Though it wasn't always like that. When I was younger I wanted to me normal. I was bullied and couldn't make friends. He once found me crying, saying I wanted to be normal, and said the exact same thing to me. After that he actively tried to make me accept my abnormality. Now I surmise he will try the same thing with you. And while I hope one day you will also embrace the glorious ways of being different then the morons out there, you need to be gradually brought out of your shell. I will help you with that, as well as keep my brother at bay." Aaron's eyes were wide at this point.

"You... You want to help me embrace being different?" Her voice was soft and disbelieving. Sherlock looked perplexed.

"Of course. It would be nice to have someone different that I can tolerate to go around with." Aaron sighed and fell back against the chair. Of course he was doing it to benefit himself.


End file.
